


No doctor

by Builder



Series: Heroverse [22]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Headaches & Migraines, Helpful Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 21:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: He doesn’t intend to drop in on Barnes, but his door is open, and Tony’s in the rare kind of good mood where it’s impossible not to share it.  He’s been meaning to give the old man a hard time about filing his expense reports in a timely fashion anyway.Tony doesn't intend to comfort the man through a migraine, either.  But that's what ends up happening.





	No doctor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheDeadlyViper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDeadlyViper/gifts).



> Find me on Tumblr @builder051. Inspired by a conversation with TheDeadlyViper, the music of Peter Frampton, and my own fevered brain trying to take a nap.

Tony bounces a little as he climbs the stairs up to the compound’s residential floor.  He’s still sweaty from the gym; the fully-automated walk-in shower in his suite is more inviting than the locker room-style facilities downstairs.  Pepper’s on her way home from the airport, and if he dawdles enough, he might still be in there by the time she arrives.  And he got a text during his run that Peter’s MIT interview had gone well, no surprise.

He doesn’t intend to drop in on Barnes, but his door is open, and Tony’s in the rare kind of good mood where it’s impossible not to share it.  He’s been meaning to give the old man a hard time about filing his expense reports in a timely fashion anyway.

His brain is coming up with excuses instead of snark, though.  Steve’s out of the country, and both of them prefer cash to cards.  Maybe Barnes just needs a refresher course.  After the regimented bureaucracy of the army and HYDRA,  _just throw ‘em on Pepper’s desk and if you’re really on top of it, use a paper clip_  could have feasibly slipped his mind.  Plus, Barnes has gotten fond of Peter and will probably want to hear the good news.

Tony knocks on the door frame.  “Hey, clunkmaster.  You home?”

There’s an indistinct grunt in reply, but Tony doesn’t see him.  The bed’s unmade and there are books on the desk, but that speaks more to the fact that Steve’s not home to pick up.  Barnes doesn’t trust the cleaning staff, and Tony values his life too much to send them in when the assassin in question is out.

Speaking of which, Tony scans the room again.  Barnes doesn’t sound especially alert, but that doesn’t mean the situation is any less risky.  In fact, it might amp up the danger.  But if there’s a gamble involved, Tony’s going to take it.

“You alright?” he tries.  God, he’s turning into Mr. nice guy.  He blames the kid.

“Hmph.”

It’s neither affirmative nor negative, but the sound is loud enough for Tony to determine it’s coming from the other side of the room, from the space between the bed and the wall.  Tony’s no expert, but it doesn’t seem like a great indication of Barnes’s well-being.

“I’m just gonna step in here for a minute…”  Tony crosses the threshold, carefully placing his running shoes down heel-toe so he doesn’t get his ass kicked for accidentally sneaking.  “I gotta talk to you about finance.  If you pay with cash when you’re out on missions, you have to turn in your receipts.  It’s not auto-tracked like your card.  Which you don’t have to use, by the way.. It’s fine,” Tony quickly covers.  No need to press his luck.

All worries for his own safety leave Tony’s mind when he sees the heap on the floor, tousled hair and metal arm barely visible under a crumpled blanket.  “Ok, we’ll talk about it later,” he says, squatting and instinctively reaching out before he even considers the consequences.  He finds what he thinks is Barnes’s lower back from the way the hard ridge of his spine stiffens under the touch.

“Ugh,” Barnes groans.  “Don’t.”

“Yeah, ok.”  Tony recoils and kneels on the floor a few feet away.  “Sorry.  I was…not thinking.  But what’s new?”  He chuckles nervously, then hopes the sound isn’t too much.  “So.  You’re not ok.”  Tony doesn’t make it a question this time.

Barnes takes a slow breath.  His shoulders rise and fall.  Tony follows the lines, picking out the flesh arm pillowing his head and the metal one curled protectively around it.  He looks for a wound, but if there is one, Barnes is hiding it well.

“What is it?  What happened?”  The security system hasn’t shown anything unusual all day.  If the facility’s been breached, they have way bigger problems on their hands.

“Hm.  Nothing,” Barnes hisses through gritted teeth.  “I’m…just… my  _head_.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Tony says.  “But did you get hit or something?”

“Nah.”  Barnes swallows thickly.  “Just…happens sometimes.”

“Oh.  That’s…not good.”  Tony blinks.  It would be thoroughly hypocritical of him to give a grown man advice about hiding health problems, but if he ignores that part, it becomes an issue of team safety.  “You, uh, ever think of telling somebody?”

“Told Steve…”

Of course he did.  Tony makes a mental note to bug Steve about it later.  Favoring cash over credit he can deal with.  But completely ignoring the availability of modern medicine?  Not in his state-of-the-art facility.  Whatever triggers Barnes has, they can work around them.

“Ok.  Well, you, me, and the big guy are gonna have a talk when he gets back.  Cause there’s got to be a better way to do this.”

Barnes moves his head a fraction of an inch.  Tony sees one eye peering out from the curtain of his hair.  He doesn’t look happy with the decision.  But more importantly, he just looks sick.

“Later, I promise.”  Tony rocks back onto his feet.  “But you need anything right now?  Like, you wanna get in bed or anything?”

“Nah,” Barnes breathes.  “I’m…good here.”

“I’m gonna beg to differ on that assessment.”  Tony stands and backs toward the door.  He pulls his phone from his pocket to adjust the room’s settings to something more migraine-friendly, but waits to wake the screen just in case the glow is offensive.  “Tell FRIDAY if you need anything.  She’ll hook you up.”

“Hm.”

Right.  Barnes isn’t a fan of the AI.  “ _I’ll_  hook you up,” Tony revises.  “I’ll leave you alone, but I’m serious.”

There’s a long pause.  Then Barnes sighs.  “Ok.”

Tony pats the doorframe on his way out.  “Ok,” he echoes.  “Good deal.”


End file.
